Page 49 of Resurrection Walk

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. Please leave me alone.” She turned back to the stairway.

“You know what and who I’m talking about,” Bosch said. “And why I can’t leave you alone.”

She stopped. Bosch watched her eyes dart around, looking for an escape route.

“Roberto Sanz,” he said. “You changed your name, moved away. I want to know why.”

“I don’t want to talk to you,” Landon said coldly.

“I understand that. But if you don’t talk to me, there will be a subpoena, and a judge will make you talk to me. Then it could go public. If you talk to me now, I can try to keep you out of it down the line. Your name, where you live — none of it should have to come out.”

She brought her free hand up and held it across her eyes.

“You’re putting me in danger,” she said. “Don’t you see that?”

“Danger from who?” Bosch asked.

“Them.”

Bosch was flying in the dark without instrumentation. He was simply following his instincts in what he had said so far. But Landon’s reactions here told him that he was clearly on the right path.

“The Cucos?” he asked. “Is that who you mean? We can protect you from them.”

The mere mention of the sheriff’s clique seemed to send a shudder through her body.

Bosch had been careful to keep his distance. But now he casually stepped closer.

“I can see to it that you have no part in what’s about to go down,” he said. “No one will ever know your new name or where you are. But you have to help me.”

“You found me,” Landon said. “They can find me.”

“They, whoever they are, won’t even know. This is just you and me. But you need to talk to me about the day Roberto got shot — what was going on, what he was into.”

“Have you talked to Agent MacIsaac?”

“Not yet. But I will. When I know more from you.”

Bosch didn’t recognize the name but he didn’t want to let Landon know that. It might undercut her confidence in the promise he had just made. But her calling MacIsaac an agent raised an immediate flag. It indicated that MacIsaac was a fed, which meant that any number of agencies in the federal sandbox could have been involved with Roberto Sanz. Even if Landon refused to cooperate, he now had a new lead to pursue.

“I have to think about this,” Landon said.

“Why?” Bosch said. “For how long?”

“Just give me today,” she said. “Give me a number and I’ll call you in the morning.”

Bosch knew better than to let a potential witness go off to think about things. Fears could multiply, legal advisers could be pulled into the decision. You never let a fish off the hook.

“Can we just talk now, off the record?” Bosch said. “I won’t record it. I won’t even take notes. I need to know about that day. A woman who may be innocent — a mother — is in prison. For her, every single day, every hour, is a nightmare. You knew Eric, her son. She needs to be with him to raise him right.”

“But I followed the case and she pleaded guilty,” Landon said. “Now she says she’s innocent?”

“She pleaded no contest to a reduced charge of manslaughter. Because she had to risk life imprisonment in a trial.”

Landon nodded as though she understood Lucinda Sanz’s plight.

“Okay,” she said. “Let’s get this over with. Where?”

“We can sit in my car,” Bosch said. “Or yours. Or find a coffee shop to sit in.”

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